Ezra glanced at his paper.
Question two.
"Explain the relationship between mana compression and spell velocity. Include the risks associated with over-compression."
He exhaled.
"Mana compression determines how dense the mana is when forming a spell. The denser the mana, the faster and more forceful the spell becomes."
Vanitas nodded, motioning for him to continue.
"However," Ezra added, "over-compression increases the risk of spell destabilization, which can lead to misfires or backlashes."
Silence.
The class held their breath, waiting for Vanitas's response.
Vanitas's voice broke through their quiet exchange.
"Acceptable," Vanitas finally said, though his tone was devoid of praise. "But your explanation lacked detail."
Ezra opened his mouth, but no words came out. He wanted to retort, but refrained from doing so.
In his whole life, he had never been humiliated this much before.
He lived his whole life showered with praise, but none of those were present here.
The classroom grew noisy with students discussing for some reason, completely forgetting they were taking a test.
Vanitas, seated at his desk, leaned back and propped both feet onto the table with a loud, resounding thud, completely silencing the room.
"Thirty minutes remain," Vanitas said coolly. "Each whisper I hear will subtract one minute."
".....!"
The murmurs stopped instantly.
Vanitas leaned further into his chair, watching the students scramble to refocus on their tests.
Ezra clenched his fist under the desk, his eyes fixed on the paper before him.
This wasn't just a test. It felt like a public execution.
The questions weren't just complex. They required knowledge he hadn't even encountered yet.
He glanced at the diagrams, the mana flow equations, the theoretical constructs of magic circuit efficiency.
None of it made sense!
"Shit," Ezra muttered under his breath.
The student beside him nudged him with an elbow, whispering, "Dude, just write something down."
Seriously, who is this guy?
Ezra scrawled half-hearted answers.
Vanitas's gaze swept over the room.
Every now and then, his eyes landed on a student, freezing them in place as if they were prey caught in the predator's trap.
Astrid, seated near the front, kept her focus entirely on the test.
Her pen glided across the paper with confidence, though even she occasionally furrowed her brow.
"Five minutes deducted," Vanitas announced suddenly.
The tension in the room spiked.
Ezra's heart sank. Someone had whispered, and now there were only 25 minutes left.
"Are you serious?" someone mumbled, immediately realizing their mistake.
"Four minutes," Vanitas added without missing a beat.
Ezra's pen snapped in his hand.
"Fuck this," he muttered as quietly as he could, grabbing another pen from his bag.
"Language, Ezra," Vanitas said without looking up.
Ezra froze.
How the hell did he even hear that!?
Vanitas stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
He walked to the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back.
"Your performance today," he began, "will set the tone for the rest of this semester."
His voice carried across the room.
"I'm not here to babysit. If you can't handle the pressure, leave now."
No one moved.
Ezra gritted his teeth, gripping his pen tightly.
The last thing he wanted was to be singled out again.
"Fifteen minutes remaining," Vanitas announced.
The sound of pens scribbling against paper grew frantic.
Karina, seated at the side of the room, shuffled nervously, her hands gripping her clipboard.
Even she seemed intimidated by Vanitas's presence.
Ezra stared at the last question, sweat dripping down his temple.
It was a complex problem about mana alignment during high-tier spellcasting.
"Come on, think…." he whispered to himself.
The room was dead silent now, save for the occasional scratch of a pen.
Vanitas's gaze lingered on Ezra for a moment before moving on.
"Ten minutes."
Ezra's heart pounded. He scribbled down whatever came to mind.
"Five minutes left."
The tension was unbearable.
Vanitas returned to his desk, sitting down with a calm, detached expression.
"Time's up," he said finally.
"Place your papers at the front and leave the room."
"But Professor, there's still thirty minutes left before the lecture ends—" a student, who sat at the front along with Astrid, said.
"Are you questioning my decision?"
The student faltered, shaking their head. "N-No, Professor."
"Good."
The student gulped and hurried to the front, placing their paper on the growing pile.
One by one, the rest of the class followed.
Astrid, with her head held high, marched confidently to the desk.
Her paper was filled and neat, a complete contrast to the messy or half–finished papers of her peers.
She glanced at Vanitas briefly, but his eyes didn't meet hers.
Instead, he flipped through the stack of papers already placed on his desk.
"Ezra." Vanitas called without looking up.
Ezra froze mid-step, his paper clutched tightly in his hands. For some reason, Vanitas's attention was always on Ezra.
Astrid briefly glanced at Ezra before leaving the classroom.
"Y-Yes, Professor?"
"Hand it over."
Ezra approached cautiously and placed his paper on the desk.
Vanitas's fingers tapped the stack and lifted his gaze to meet Ezra's.
"Interesting."
Ezra opened his mouth as cold sweat beaded from his forehead, but no words came out.
What did the Professor want now?
"Dismissed."
"Oh."
"What?"
"Is…. that it?"
"Yes, do you have something else to say?"
"N–No, I'll be going now."
Just like that, Ezra left the lecture hall.
***
"Karina, could you bring these over to my office? I have somewhere to be."
"Okay, but, why did you end the lecture early?"
"Not now, I'll tell you later."
Vanitas got up and rushed out of the lecture hall.
Karina stared blankly at the space where Vanitas once stood. For some reason, he seemed to be in a hurry.
Karina occasionally noticed the subtle twitch in his movements, but chose not to comment.
Despite his strict demeanor, she could sense an unusual tension in the Professor.
He was definitely nervous.
Even four years of teaching experience wasn't enough to completely compose oneself.
"I can do it too."
Just from that fact alone left Karina inspired.
Karina looked at the paper atop the pile.
"Ezra Kaelus."
For some reason, the Professor had never thrown him out of the lecture hall.
In the past, she had heard stories of Vanitas immediately failing students like him on the first day, despite them being able to answer his questions perfectly.
But that didn't happen today at all. In fact, he had offered him advice.
It was truly odd.
"I wonder what the Professor's so busy with, though."
***
"Fuck, I managed to held it in."
Vanitas bolted into the nearest bathroom, barely managing to lock the stall door before collapsing onto the seat.
His stomach churned violently, and he let out a shaky breath.
"Haaa….."
The earlier lecture played back in his mind as he buried his face in his hands.
He'd distributed the test purely as a diversion, desperately needing a way to cut the time during the sudden crisis.
"Shit, why now of all times?"
The sound of students chatting faintly echoed through the hallway outside.
Vanitas groaned, clutching his stomach.
"A 'terrifying' Professor stuck in a stall while taking a shit. Amazing."
Vanitas stacked the graded papers neatly on his desk.
The test wasn't just for scores.
It was to assess where his students stood academically, to determine how far he could push them.
Though he had played through this storyline countless times, experiencing it as a Professor gave it an entirely new perspective.
A quick glance at the pile told him enough.
The majority of the students were woefully unprepared. Their answers were riddled with mistakes or half-hearted attempts.
But there were exceptions.
[Astrid Barielle Aetherion]
Her paper was nearly flawless. Each of her answers were written with clarity, not to mention her penmanship.
Then there was Sophia Clementine.
Her answers weren't as polished as Astrid's, but they demonstrated a raw understanding far beyond the standard curriculum.
He tapped the edge of the paper thoughtfully.
"An overthinker," he muttered. "Needs refinement."
Flip—
It was followed by other noble kids, but their performances paled in comparison.
Astrid's near-flawless execution and Sophia's thoughtful approach had set a high bar.
Some tried to imitate their styles.
Others simply scribbled whatever came to mind, hoping for the best. Vanitas could tell that much by mere observation.
Flip— Flip—
Vanitas flipped through the papers quickly.
Occasionally, he'd pause, raise a brow, then move on.
The disparity in knowledge was glaring.
Eventually, he paused as a name caught his eye.
[Ezra Kaelus.]
The commoner who had ranked first in the ESAT examination.
"..."
Vanitas leaned back in his chair, scanning the messy scrawl that filled Ezra's paper.
His answers were unconventional, bordering on chaotic. Yet, somehow, they were right.
"Instinctual," Vanitas murmured, his amethyst eyes narrowing. "He doesn't know why it works. He just knows it does."
It was raw, unpolished talent.
The kind that could either thrive under pressure or shatter completely
Just like in the game itself.
Right now, there was no player. However, the one closest to a player was none other than Ezra Kaelus.
In the acts that followed, aside from the player, Ezra Kaelus was an indispensable figure, especially in the absence of the Professors.
As students of the most prestigious University Tower, they were prime targets.
Danger would follow them, whether they liked it or not.
That was simply how the game was designed.
Vanitas sighed, leaning back in his chair.
Truth be told, Vanitas didn't want to antagonize Ezra.
But he needed Ezra to know the harsh reality of the egalitarian culture the Academy entailed.
Ezra's arrogance, his carefree attitude—it wouldn't survive the trials ahead.
"Haha."
In any case, Vanitas could excuse his dozing off.
It wasn't entirely Ezra's fault.
The drawback of his stigmata forced him into constant drowsiness.
"Guess that's it."
"Uhm."
Vanitas raised his head, fixing his glasses. "You're still here?"
Karina was still here, standing still as if waiting for his orders.
"Aren't you going to have lunch?" Vanitas said.
It was currently lunch–time.
"No, I'll be here in case the Professor needs me."
"Well, I'm done for this class. The setup is more or less the same for my next lectures."
"I–Is that so?"
It was due to Karina's meticulous preparations before he even arrived, that he didn't have much work to do in the first place.
"Yes." Vanitas rose from his chair, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door. "I'm going for lunch. Take a break yourself, Karina."
Before she could protest, Vanitas strode to the door and left without another word.
Karina stared after him, biting her lip.
The room was silent, save for the faint rustle of papers she'd organized earlier.
She glanced at the empty desk, then down at her grumbling stomach.
"...I need to save up."
Karina's finances were tight, especially after recently paying her father's monthly medical bills.
To make ends meet, she had been skipping meals, limiting herself to just dinner.
So, with nothing else to do, Karina sat on her own desk and took out a small notebook from her bag.
[Vanitas Astrea 101]
[1. Wears glasses just to make himself look good. I'm 100% certain his eyesight is normal. He doesn't even look good with it.]
[2. Strict but fair. Except when it comes to Ezra. Pretty sure he's testing him, but it looks more like bullying.]
She had been secretly studying Vanitas, just so she could be well prepared for when the inevitable happens.
[3. Probably has never smiled in his life. Except maybe at that book he's always reading.]
Karina glanced at the door, half-expecting Vanitas to suddenly appear and scold her for her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat at the absurdity.
Eventually, she penned down.
[4. Probably schizophrenic. Often talks to himself, even when there's no one around.]
Karina nodded with a cheeky smile plastered on her face as she closed the notebook.
This was necessary.
It was for her survival.
***
Charlotte glanced around the bustling cafeteria.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, her wallet felt heavy in her pocket.
Vanitas had told her to quit her part–time jobs, and that he would support her financially.
But the question remained, just how would he even accumulate the funds?
Vanitas had told her not to worry about it.
He would handle everything. Charlotte only needed to focus on her studies.
She felt like she could cry. To think those words would come out of her Brother's mouth.
'He's not my brother…..'
He was way better.
That being said, Charlotte was able to purchase a full meal set. It was her first time.
—Isn't that Charlotte Astrea?
—I can't believe she managed to squeeze in the rankings.
—Shh, she might hear you.
—Right, because of that brother of hers, she's practically untouchable here now.
Charlotte tried to ignore the murmurs as she made her way to an empty table.
Some of the kids during her highschool managed to pass the exams. Thankfully, there weren't a lot of them.
Sitting down, she focused on her meal, her hands trembling as she picked up her utensils.
The food smelled amazing, but her appetite felt like it had disappeared.
'Untouchable?' she thought bitterly. 'They're wrong. They always are.'
She clenched her fork tightly.
The whispers didn't stop.
—How much do you think her brother paid to get her in?
'That's not even possible,' Charlotte thought.
—What a joke. That Brother of hers doesn't fare any better.
A lump formed in her throat. It wasn't the first time she'd heard these kinds of comments, but it never got easier.
'Don't cry,' she told herself, forcing her focus back on the tray.
She took a hesitant bite, savoring the taste. For a brief moment, the world around her melted away.
Hieeek—!
And then a chair scraped loudly across the floor.
Charlotte's head shot up, startled.
A tall figure dropped into the seat across from her, setting their tray down with a loud clatter.
'What the hell?'
Charlotte knew exactly who he was. How couldn't she?
Besides her, it was the guy everyone whispered about, the prodigy who had ranked first in the ESAT exams.
"Ah, sorry. Didn't see you there," he greeted casually, leaning back in his chair.
"W–What are you doing?" Charlotte stammered, glancing around.
Every pair of eyes in the cafeteria seemed to be on them now.
Ezra raised an eyebrow. "About to eat? What does it look like?"
"..."
Charlotte's mouth opened, then closed. She was completely at a loss for words.
Ezra unwrapped his utensils with an air of nonchalance, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to the stares around them.
"Don't take this the wrong way, the view's just nice over here," Ezra said as he stared out the window.
"..."
"Don't know why everyone's talking about you. But it's more or less the same for me."
"..."
Charlotte's gaze lingered on his tray. Unlike hers, he was barely eating anything.
A single apple, a cup of water, and a club sandwich.
"...Do you want some?" Charlotte gestured, offering a bit of her food.
"No, it's fine. This is normal for me."
"Is that so?"
"I need to get used to it anyway. Scholarship doesn't cover these expenses," Ezra said.
Finishing the last piece of bread, Ezra tilted his head, studying her for a moment.
Then he asked, "Name?"
Charlotte, nibbling her food, paused and raised her head, "Charlotte."
"Charlotte, huh? Okay, I'll try to remember that."
Ezra got up with his tray and disappeared shortly after.
Charlotte finished her own meal, leaned back in her seat, and sighed.
"Haaa….."
The fact that he didn't recognize her left her stunned.
Almost everyone else had avoided her on the first day.
It was so different from her academy school years.
Back then, the higher aristocrats wouldn't just gossip—they'd pick on her openly.
Here, no one dared approach her. They would just whisper from a distance.
And she knew it was all because of one person.
Vanitas.
But there was still one doubt that lingered in her mind.
'Why do the spirits keep telling me he's a demon?'
He clearly wasn't.
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